Secrets and Seduction Las Vegas (Sexy Italian Imports Book 1) (33 page)

He smiled. “Tell me.”

“Well, I could call a friend on the board of the hospital in Summerlin, ask if he had an opening.”

He nodded. “I’m working at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country. Taking a position at a hospital in Las Vegas would seem an odd career choice. Wouldn’t look good on my resume.”

He was right. “You love your job, don’t you?”

His eyes glazed over, slightly. “It’s the job I’ve wanted my whole life. Since I was rushed to the E.R. as a kid with a broken femur. I remember the doctor who set my leg, I knew right then I wanted to do that—to be that doctor for other kids, for people who needed help.”

“Did you ever contact that doctor again?”

“I did.” His smile was diffident. “He became my mentor through med school and is like a second father to me.”

“Sounds like you’re living your dream.” She didn’t mean to sound jealous.

“No, love.”

She noticed the sparkle of moisture in his eyes.

“My dream would be to have you near me every day. To start a family and raise our children together. To grow old with you.” His jaw tensed. “And I don’t care where we do it, as long as you’re happy.”

Right then she committed to do anything for him—for them. She’d give up everything to be with him. That was the only important thing in her future. She swallowed the lump of emotion and smiled. “I’ve heard there are a lot of wealthy people in California who love to spend money on cosmetic surgery.”

He looked at her with love blazing in his eyes. “I’ve heard that, too.”

She touched her fingertips on the back of his neck, pulling herself closer. “And the schools in Los Angeles are excellent, I hear.”

“I hear that, too.” He stood, fitting her body along the length of his.

“Joe…” The words wouldn’t come; her feelings were too close to the surface.

“Let’s go in the house.”

She smiled, unbuttoned his shirt. “Let’s go in the pool.”

Within seconds, they were naked and jumping in the warm water. The stars overhead began spinning as he floated her on the surface and made love to her with his sweet, talented mouth. Then took her flying again as his perfect body joined with hers in the primal dance that sent them both heavenward.

Later, lying together on a chaise lounge, she asked, “You have a surprise for me?”

In the moonlight, his smile was wicked, and he prodded her leg with his hard rod. “You mean this?”

She nipped him softly on the neck. “No, that’s not a surprise any longer, I’m getting used to it being hard all the time.”

He growled at her.

“Something in your wallet?”

“Oh, that’s right. I have tickets for Sunday night to see Cẻline Dion.”

She sat up, too excited to sit still. “Really? She’s back in town? I wanted to see her show when she had her own showroom, but I never made it. I hear she’s fabulous.”

He pulled her back down, rolling so she was on top of him. “You’re fabulous.” He moved her hips so she was poised over his shaft.

“You’re darn right I am.” She slid slowly, luxuriously, onto his hard cock.

****

That evening, Valerie called Jules and set up an appointment at her design store to talk with her about some possible business. She was being sneaky, but Antonio would like her help decorating his place.

She checked her e-mails. The weekend that worked best for Sloan’s bachelorette party was in two weeks. She’d confirmed the date with Sloan and e-mailed the girls, inviting them to stay at her place for two nights.

Rubbing her hands together, she planned a weekend of good, clean dirty-girl fun: a party bus for one night to take them to dinner and a few clubs, and one of Ryan’s houseboats for the second night.

He’d offered her the big one with the hot tub, water slide and jet skis, and he volunteered to pilot the boat.

She took him up on the offer. Better than trying to maneuver the huge barge herself. And it felt safer having a man aboard.

She’d been spending too many Saturday nights alone watching horror movies.

****

Antonio rode the elevator to his condo. Three in the morning on Sunday, his muscles ached, and he had a pocket full of dirty one dollar bills. “Disgusting.” Both the cash and the addiction to the thrill that kept him from spending his weekends with the woman he loved.

Opening his mailbox, he pulled out a dozen envelopes, flipped through them, and stopped dead. Another blackmail note. In his foyer, he ripped it open, despite the warning from his private detective to be cautious.

“As agreed, your last payment will keep us from publicly revealing your weekend activities. But we’re sure you don’t want your pretty new high-class girlfriend to hear about it. Same amount, police station downtown.”

It went on to detail where to hide the money. He crushed the paper in his hand so hard he felt something pop. “God damn.”

No one threatened his woman. He threw the paper on the floor and walked to the kitchen. Taking the Patron Silver tequila from the cupboard, he poured a shot and slammed it, then another. It wasn’t curbing his desire to kill someone, though.

He carried the bottle and shot glass onto the balcony. A hot Vegas night, things were just getting started down on the street. He looked toward the west, toward her house. He should be there with her, protecting her. She was everything…

He slammed another shot of liquor down his throat. How had he become such a fucking rotten excuse for a man? Weak, obsessed with his own pleasure, a danger to Valerie.

Walking back into the penthouse, he put the liquor away and headed for the bedroom. Tonight. He would tell her tonight. He had no choice. Walking past the foyer, he picked up the crumpled blackmail letter and put it on the table.

He had money to cover it, but some things were more important. Self-esteem. Integrity. Love. God, how he loved her.

In his bedroom, he stripped and stepped into the shower. He would man up, do what was right. Become the person she thought he was.

****

That evening, Valerie’s pan of lasagna was done hours before the roar of Antonio’s motorcycle announced his arrival. She greeted him at the door, wearing a new sundress, excited to see if he liked it. But something was wrong.

“Hi, sweet.” Barely a smile, a quick kiss, and he walked in and plopped down on the living room couch without taking off his jacket.

She followed him. What had brought on this mood? She never saw him so down before. He looked tired, lifeless. “Can I get you something? A beer, wine? G&T?

He looked at her; his eyes were guarded. “Beer would be good. Thanks.”

She went to the kitchen and opened a beer for him and a juice for herself.

He took his jacket off when she handed him the beer, and she sat next to him.

“You look exhausted. Too much weekend?”

He glanced at her, looked away, then sat forward and set his beer down. Running his fingers through his hair, he dropped his head. Not a good sign. She sat back, sipped her juice, and waited.

“Valerie.” He didn’t look at her. “I want to tell you something.” His voice was quiet but determined.

“Okay.” Was she about to meet one of his demons?

He looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Then he picked up the papers she left on the table. “What are these?”

Damn, she shouldn’t have left them sitting out.

She desperately needed to hear what he had to say, and she didn’t want anything to distract him. “Nothing urgent, Antonio. We can talk about it later.” She wanted him to get back to his disclosure.

He scanned through the photos. “What the hell. What are these pictures?”

This was going to be difficult to explain. “After the incident…” She tapped her cheek where he hit her. “The accident? Monica and Joe decided to hire a private investigator.”

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. He repeated the process four more times before he looked at her with fire in his eyes. “You let them investigate me?”

Chapter Twenty Eight

“No. I didn’t know about it until today when Monica stopped by.” Valerie reached to touch him.

Antonio stood abruptly and bumped the coffee table, knocking his beer bottle off. They both ignored it. Walking to the fireplace, he flipped through the pages. “Who’s this man?”

“Do you recognize him? He’s following you.”

He looked at the pictures again. “Following me?” He stared at her. “You’d better explain.” His voice was low, angry.

“The PI didn’t find anything about you that you hadn’t already told me. But a couple nights a week, that man…” She pointed to the papers in his hand. “Follows you.”

“Shit.” His lips compressed. “God damn bullshit.”

Why didn’t he believe her? “Really, it’s true. He—”

“I don’t doubt that I’m being followed. I mean the PI.” He looked at her. “What the hell is wrong with your family? Why don’t they leave us alone?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I know, Antonio. I feel the same way. I told Monica that she’d gone too far. That she needs to stay out of our lives. And as soon as the PI identifies that man—”

He looked at the picture. “You’ll tell me who he is.”

“Why? So you can race over there in a blind rage and beat the truth out of him?”

“It’s my life we’re talking about here.” He tossed the papers on the table then his icy glare shot to her face. “I want your sister out of this. And out of my private business. Permanently.”

She held her hands out, palms up. “I’ll talk to her again, but I can’t promise, Antonio. She said she did it because she was concerned for me, and that’s not going to change.”

He seemed to deflate. “Shit. I don’t blame her.” His mood swung back from angry to despondent. “I’m not good for you. I’m not even good enough for you.”

“Yes, you are.” She felt tears run down her face. “You’re just emotionally strained right now. Sit and talk to me. We’ll work through this.”

“Valerie, I’m sorry. I’m back to being an asshole again.”

He sat next to her, not touching her but looking as if he expected a reprimand.

She wanted him to open up to her, and this seemed like the opening she needed. “Please talk to me, Antonio. What is it you came here to tell me?”

He stared at her for a long while then stood. “I think I should leave.”

His tone said, “leave
you
,” and she felt a moment of panic. She shook her head. “No. I want you to stay…”

“Provided…” He looked down at her.

“No provisions. If you’re not ready to tell me, that’s fine.” She put her hand on his and urged him back down on the couch. “When you walked in here today, you were going to tell me, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there’s nothing to tell.” He looked defeated.

The moment was lost. She wouldn’t hear his secret tonight. Damn, he was the most frustrating man… She clenched her jaw. “Bullshit.” She couldn’t think of anything else to break the tension.

His eyebrow shot up. “What?”

“You heard me. I said bullshit.” She made a fist and punched him in the chest.

“Ow. What the hell are you doing?” He rubbed his chest. He seemed more startled than angry.

“I’m going to beat the crap out of you until you tell me.” She fought to keep from smiling.

“Really? My pretty-boy face?”

“No. But the rest of you is fair game.” She made a fist with her middle knuckle sticking out, the way Ryan had done when they were kids. She hit him in the thigh. Hard. The aggression felt kind of good.

“Ouch, jeez, Valerie. You’re not supposed to resort to violence to get people to do what you want.”

“Because why?” She kicked him in the shin with her bare foot, probably hurting herself more than she hurt him.

“I’ve never seen you…” He laughed. “Stop. Have you lost your mind?”

“Oh, right. Because I’m a professional therapist, I can’t let out my frustrations.”

He held up his hand, forestalling her next hit. “Yeah, damn it. Aren’t you supposed to hit pillows or something?”

She grabbed one of the accent pillows and threw it at him. When he caught it above his head in both hands, she gut-punched him, loving the sound of his breath leaving his lungs.

“That’s it, woman,” he choked. “Your ass is mine!” His eyes threatened retribution, but he had a smile on his face.

“Not if I can help it,” she whispered, baring her teeth and showing her claws.

“Hellcat.” He grabbed her wrists as she lunged at him.

“Bastard.”

He picked her up and, in seconds, plopped her down on the thick rug in front of the fireplace. His hands held her arms. “Baby, I like this. You’re bad today.”

She liked it a lot too, but she wasn’t ready to let him know just how much. “See if you like this,
baby
.” She jerked one of her knees up, coming close to his package. He twisted to the side just in time.

“Shit, now you’re getting personal.” He let go of her arms and rolled onto the floor, but she followed.

She landed on him and sat on his chest, knocking the wind out of him again. “You cry mercy, and I’ll stop. Otherwise, you’re in for a lot more.”

He smiled the silliest grin she’d ever seen on his gorgeous face. “No way in hell I’m going to cry mercy. Hit me with your best shot.”

She recalled an evil smile from a horror film and recreated it on her face. “Do you like this T-shirt?” She touched the Harley logo on his chest.

“Yeah, I got this in Germany—”

She grabbed the neckline with both hands and, mastering superhuman strength, ripped it halfway down the front. “Oh, sorry. You said you
did
like it?”

“Whoa, baby!” His face showed total amazement.

She ripped the shirt the rest of the way down. “Now you can use it to wax your bike.”

“Seriously, you’re like sexbitch all the sudden.” He laughed slowly.

“Get used to it. I’m going to be like this all night.”

“Yes. Thank you, God.”

She reached behind her and grabbed his belt, unfastened it while staring into his eyes. Unbuttoning his jeans, she unzipped them and boldly reached inside his underwear for his cock.

He jerked hard as she grabbed him, and he let out a growl. “Baby, do what you want to me.” His eyes closed in ecstasy.